Page 30 of Jett

Hannah glances at Brooke and frowns. “Got it, boss.”

I light a cigarette and walk through my clubhouse to One Eye’s old room. I turn the handle, but it’s locked. I make a fist and bang on the door. “Let me in, darlin’.”

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Raine,” I warn, ready to bust the fucking door down but she yanks it back. Her eyes are red and shining with tears. “Saw Grim leave the kitchen. What did he say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.”

“You gonna let me in, or do I have to stand out here in the hall of my own fucking clubhouse?” I cock my head, waiting for her answer. She pulls the door open and steps aside.

I walk in and cup her face with my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Look, what happened, that’s on me. I don’t want you feeling like shit because—”

“Because I fucked a married man and his wife caught us in the act? Too late, Jett.”

“Mia will calm down. Her pride’s hurt; she’ll get over it.”

“But I won’t.” She shakes her head. “This thing between us, it can’t ever happen again. I haven’t been one hundred per cent hon—”

“Prez.” Kick pushes the door open without knocking. Raine immediately puts some distance between us. “Sorry. I know you’re ... busy, but Killer just called. Him and Mia picked up a tail. They fired shots. The bastards ran Killer off the road, pinned him between his bike and the pylon. An ambulance is on its way, but he’s in bad shape.”

“Fuck.”

“Prez, they got Mia.”

“Goddamn it.” I lash out, upending the table. Raine’s belongings spill over onto the floor, and she shrieks and takes several steps back. “Fucking stupid cunt. I knew that bitch would get herself killed.”

Kick and Raine share a look, and I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and breathe.Just fucking breathe, arsehole.

“I’m sorry.” I reach for Raine, but she doesn’t come any closer. I can’t say I blame her. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for all of it.”

I turn and leave because I don’t know what the hell else to do to make it better. My bitch wife is out there in the hands of my enemy, and the woman I love is terrified of me. It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.










JETT

ISIT AT THE HEAD OFour club table, stubbing out my third fucking cigarette in twenty minutes.Waiting. Seems that’s all I do these days—fucking wait for the guillotine to fall.